


You Cut Through All the Noise

by iGoToExtremes



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sweet fluffy holidaytime goodness, another fluffy Dyle fic alluding to the Anchor, because we can never have too many of those, delightfully domestic Dyle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iGoToExtremes/pseuds/iGoToExtremes
Summary: In which Dan gets some help figuring out how to be most effectively charitable.
Relationships: Kyle Simmons/Dan Smith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	You Cut Through All the Noise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [written_you_down](https://archiveofourown.org/users/written_you_down/gifts).



> A gift for a wonderful friend during this bizarre time. Usual disclaimers that this is a work of fiction, not intended to infringe or offend, despite any resemblance to actual people.

Dan falls back onto the couch in the corner of the writing room, allowing himself a break after working out some vocal harmonies for a new song. 

After closing his eyes a moment, he naturally winds up on his phone checking Twitter. Without even meaning to, in less than a minute he’s deep in a doomscroll of the latest pandemic news. 

There’s a headline about the decline in cases amidst the UK’s lockdown 2.0, which is scheduled to end in five days, and that sounds hopeful enough. Nonetheless, there’s also commentary about the amount of travel and gathering associated with the American Thanksgiving holiday. This is likely to cause a spike in cases there, thus providing a cautionary tale for Christmas celebrations in the UK – if too many people ignore the recommended precautions on distancing, cases are likely to explode. And of course, because it’s Twitter, there’s the usual chorus of people blaming the government for not being stricter sooner/longer, as well as plenty of folks chiming in that the virus is nothing worse than the flu and therefore not a reason to disrupt everyone’s lives. 

Dan’s eyes threaten to glaze over, the uncertainty enough to drive him mad. How bad will the winter surge be? Is there any hope of live music returning in the summer, or are Bastille’s June and July festival dates completely unrealistic?!

Thankfully, there are some other bits of good news – the progress supposedly being made on a coronavirus vaccine, the end of Trump’s presidency inching closer, the niche feel-good stories about people helping one another during the struggles of the last several months.

“Hey, come check out this new riff I’ve just laid down.” 

Dan looks up to find Mark hovering in the doorway. “Sure thing,” he says, grateful for the interruption from the Twitter abyss, and joins Mark in the adjacent recording room. 

He’s said it in every interview because it’s true, how grateful he is that his family and friends have been safe and healthy, and how fortuitous it was for the band that they’d planned to take time off from touring this year anyway. Exactly as intended, he’s been able to write a lot and collaborate with others and otherwise take advantage of being home consistently. It’s the most time he’s spent with his nephews  _ literally _ ever, since they’d been born, despite the inconvenience of not being able to spend much time with them indoors. 

There’s also the more recent, rather unexpected development in his personal life, which brings a wry smile to his face now that it’s crossed his mind. (Or maybe it was completely expected, depending on who you ask.)

After checking out Mark’s new riff, the rest of the work day entails setting up the logistics for the band’s new single announcement and EP drop, which will both take place the following week. 

“I have no idea how Twitch works so I’ll be relying entirely on you, mate,” he emails Kenny Beats after they work out the time for his guest appearance. 

“All good man, I got u,” the American replies. 

“You excited, then? Ready to put her out in the world?” Mark asks when it’s all confirmed. 

Dan exhales audibly. “Yeah, y’know,” he drawls. “Ready to be torn to shreds in the reviews.”

Mark only rolls his eyes and chuckles, no further response to Dan’s usual pessimism required at this time. 

Dan leaves the studio feeling a bit drained and extremely grateful that it’s Friday. He’ll probably poke around on a few things over the weekend from home, but he’s getting increasingly used to keeping regular business hours and preserving Saturdays and Sundays for free time. 

On his bus ride home, he sees a viral Twitter exchange wherein some random American gloated about his very enjoyable “regular” Thanksgiving, only to be RTed by a hospital nurse describing how she held someone’s hand while they died because their family wasn’t allowed to visit them, “but I’m glad you enjoyed your meal”. 

Dan blinks, stunned by the stark contrast of the tweets, and walks home from the bus stop in a daze. On some level he’s grown numb to it all, the constant barrage of mostly bad news and examples of people being utter shit. Other times, it hits him like a ton of bricks, how acutely fucked the world probably is. He’s aware that it’s a privilege to retreat into his work and periodically escape from the troubles of the world, but that merely makes him feel guilty about trying to keep on top of things otherwise, and - probably, he reasons - leads to these moments of shellshock.

Regardless, there’s obviously not a lot he can do to improve the present state of the world, he thinks with a sigh as he unlocks his front door and enters the house. He’s a touch grateful that none of his housemates are out and about to greet him, as he doesn’t feel much for conversation at the moment. Plodding up the stairs to his bedroom, he drops off his backpack and coat before following the sound of a keyboard coming from the living room. 

Kyle’s playing something quiet and slow, wearing a gray hoodie that looks invitingly soft. Dan watches him from the doorway for a moment, wanting to enjoy the music and not disturb him, but eventually Kyle must sense his presence because he stops. “Oh, hello. Didn’t hear you come in.” His dark eyes quietly sparkle as he looks over. 

“Just got home,” Dan explains as he approaches, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Kyle cranes his neck upward and they both go in for a kiss, but in that awkward way where their angles conflict and it doesn’t work at first. Eventually they get it, though. 

A metaphor, apparently, for how they’re still figuring this whole thing out. 

After that, Dan shamelessly drapes himself over Kyle’s hoodie-clad back in a hug. 

_ Soft _ , he thinks, dreamily, before releasing his arms after what’s likely an inappropriate duration. 

Kyle, of course, is easygoing as ever and barely seems put off by it. “Everyone else has their dinner sorted but I, by myself, could eat every morsel of Thai food in South London, so I’ve placed a massive order,” he explains, referring to Dan’s housemates (and his apparently ravenous appetite). “Hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’s wicked,” Dan says, settling onto the nearby couch while Kyle resumes playing. 

Naturally, Dan winds up back on his phone, this time throwing a “how are you lot?” onto Twitter and scrolling through the replies. There’s the usual slew of fans sharing their thoughts and feelings, asking how he’s doing, and politely (or not) begging him to do another quaranstream or release new music. He does his best to respond to a wide swath of people, trying not to dwell on the sheerly overwhelming number of replies these tweets tend to get. 

At some point he registers the sound of Kyle’s phone chiming. 

“Food’s here!” 

Dan barely glimpses the other man dash past the couch, the whoosh of his stride giving way to the sound of fluttering footsteps down the stairs to meet whatever poor soul had been tasked with delivering their dinner. 

(The delivery worker who’s considered essential because Lord forbid two idiots in a band cook for themselves tonight.)

(They  _ do _ cook for themselves quite a bit, so ordering some takeaway as a treat isn’t the worst thing. But Dan’s in a self-loathing mood.)

After responding to a few more tweets, his phone vibrates as an incoming text notification appears on the screen.

It’s a picture from Kyle, showing the spread of food that’s just arrived.

_ The red curry looks amazing, and smells even better – get down here before I eat it all!  _ reads the caption.

Dan rolls his eyes but smirks just the same, then peels himself off the couch and heads down to the kitchen. 

“Mmmph, finally,” Kyle says through a mouthful of… something. He’s already seated at the table, with a place for Dan set across from him. “Here, have a spring roll,” he reaches out, and Dan is surprised to find the food placed directly into his mouth. 

Despite the unexpected offering, Dan manages to chew without making a huge, gross mess. “ _ Mmm _ ,” he says approvingly, rolling his eyes a little to embellish his enjoyment of the food for Kyle’s benefit.

“S’good, right?” the other man says, clearly pleased with himself. 

Dan makes a plate from the serving dishes in front of them while Kyle helps himself to a second serving of the red curry over rice. 

“So, how was Mr. One-Eyed Jack today?” They sometimes play off an inside joke that the studio is a person unto itself, influencing and shepherding the music created within its walls. 

“Fine,” Dan begins, then provides a few more details about his songwriting Zoom meetings and a new idea Mark came up with for the mixing of an upcoming track. “How was your day?”

“Swell,” Kyle answers, going on to share that he did some errands, met his sister for lunch, and talked to Nick about some details for the upcoming Tyde EP. 

After dinner they sprawl on the couch, Kyle sat to one side with his feet on the ottoman while Dan snuggles into his torso and stretches out lengthwise. Dan feels strangely relaxed, not to mention a little sleepy after the nice big meal. Accordingly, he cedes the telly remote to Kyle, content to snuggle into the other man’s soft jumper and attempt to forget about the outside world. 

XxXxXxXxXxX

Kyle laughs heartily as Graham Norton makes fun of the last contestant on his show’s storytelling segment. He glances to the side to see if Dan’s as amused as he is, but the other man isn’t even engaged with the program at all, absentmindedly tapping at the lockscreen of his phone. 

Kyle sighs, using the remote to power the TV off, which Dan doesn’t even notice. 

The dichotomy of Dan has always confounded Kyle. In group settings and any public-facing work he’s reliably sunny and cheerful. Privately, though, he’s prone to quiet moments of deep thoughts that can seemingly get overwhelming. Since they’ve been spending more time together the last few months, Kyle’s tried to walk the line of giving Dan space for his pensive musings but also an outlet for sharing them if it helps. 

“Where are you right now?” Kyle asks, cautiously, running a soothing hand through the other man’s hair. 

Dan’s eyes close momentarily under the touch, and Kyle’s grateful to - hopefully - anchor him to the present time and place. 

“I’m here,” Dan insists, then shifts just enough so he can look up at Kyle’s face while they chat. “I was just thinking about when I volunteered at that doctor’s surgery. Wondering how all the nurses and medical assistants and other staff are doing now. And everyone working in hospitals during all this, with the NHS being a complete shitshow, it’s…” He trails off and shrugs. 

Kyle considers it. “The sheer magnitude of man-hours expended towards healthcare, in a big city during a pandemic? It’s a lot, yeah.” He feels a pang of guilt at his own lack of involvement in that regard. He’s concerned in the abstract, naturally, but of course Dan is more preoccupied despite having already contributed his time and, Kyle suspects, some funds to various related causes. 

“And now with Christmas coming, these people are going to be working so hard, while everyone else can at least try and celebrate,“ Dan continues glumly. “I just wish there was something we could... do.” 

Kyle hums in agreement, thinking. “Livestream concert from the lobby of a hospital?” he muses facetiously, still idly playing with the other man’s hair. “Draws attention to the cause, and all the doctors and nurses get the pleasure of your sultry voice during their breaks.”

Dan manages a laugh, his body vibrating against Kyle’s. “Not sure how many breaks they’re getting these days. And they certainly shouldn’t be spending that precious time listening to me squawk out our awful songs.”

“The covers, though, mmm?” Kyle points out, leaning right into the levity. 

Dan playfully rolls his eyes. “Regardless, I’m pretty sure it’d be awful optics, sing-spitting my droplets all over the one sort of building where they  **really** need to keep germs to a minimum.” He pauses, wrinkling his mouth thoughtfully. “And I’d rather do something that’s not public. It could even be anonymous, just a quiet token of appreciation for the people busting their asses day to day.” 

“That’s fair,” Kyle agrees. He keeps to himself how amused he is by Dan’s modesty. It’s hardly out of character, of course, that drawing even the slightest bit of attention to himself is off the table. And obviously it’s incredibly admirable that Dan concerns himself with these issues, always thinking of others and wanting to ease their burdens somehow. “We’ll think of something,” he says, his fingertips soothing a path down the exposed plane of Dan’s forearm. 

The truth is that Kyle already has an idea, but it’s going to take a little bit of research and planning before it can be executed. Were he to introduce it now, Dan would force himself into a second wind and stay up half the night getting started on it, whereas there’s no reason it can’t wait ‘til the next day. 

Dan lets out a pensive sigh, which turns into a yawn, thereby confirming Kyle’s choice as the correct one. 

“Bed?” he asks quietly. 

Dan grunts a little, then rolls onto his side and snuggles into Kyle’s lap.

Kyle’s heart squeezes a little bit, a mix of adoration and concern. Since the early days of the band they’d always been a cohesive pair, with Woody and Will typically wielding their respective older-brother personalities and Charlie off doing his own quirky thing half the time. Kyle never expected, though, that Dan would return his romantic feelings and share even more of himself than he had as a close mate. 2020 has truly been the strangest year. 

“I know that you’re capable of sleeping anywhere, but that seems silly with your bed so close by, doesn’t it?” he offers sensibly, smoothing out a particularly unruly bit of bleached hair. “Come on, up we go.” He scoots forward on the couch, nudging gently at Dan’s side. 

Dan yawns again as he sits up. Kyle’s hand is on Dan’s knee now, and he’s about to use it for leverage to stand up when Dan tugs at his wrist. 

“Hey,” he says, drawing Kyle’s attention to his face. His blue eyes look bright and intensely clear despite the overall weariness he’s displayed. “Thanks. For listening.”

Kyle swallows. “M’always here, you know that.” 

Dan smirks shyly, nodding. It’s so cute Kyle simply  _ has _ to kiss him, but Dan’s surprised and giggles, and then they don’t actually go to sleep for a while yet. 

XxXxXxXxXxX

Dan is vaguely cognizant of the bed shifting beside him in the early morning light. 

“Go back to sleep, babes,” Kyle says softly, kissing his cheek and patting his hair before tiptoeing away. 

Dan misses the comfort of Kyle beside him but is content and cozy enough to doze again for some indeterminate amount of time. 

Eventually he feels a slice of sunlight peeking through the curtain, urging him to get up and see what his boyfriend (still weird to say, even in his head) is up to. 

He heads to the kitchen to fill up his water bottle and turn on some coffee, then wanders over to the living room. Kyle’s wearing the soft hoodie from the day prior and some tight-fitting boxer shorts. 

“What’s got you up so urgently, mmm?” Dan sits beside him and takes a drink of water, the other man’s present state enough to make him consider dumping it all over his head. 

“Just an idea from last night.”

Dan’s foggy morning brain has to think back to their conversation. “You have an idea about helping the NHS?” 

Kyle feigns offense. “Don’t act so surprised, this pretty head is capable of a coherent thought or two.” 

“Mmmm of course,” Dan agrees, placing a hand gently around Kyle’s waist and urging him on. 

“Y’know those promotional gift baskets we get at festivals and TV appearances?” 

“And for Christmas,” Dan adds with a wince, making a mental note to donate the embarrassing horde of unsolicited seasonal gifts that have already started to trickle into One-Eyed Jack’s. 

“Exactly! You said you wanted to do something to help people working in health care settings,” Kyle goes on. “It’d be easy enough to just order a few baskets to be sent to hospitals and call it a day, but that isn’t personal, y’know?”

“Totally,” Dan agrees. 

“ _ So _ , I figured we could do it ourselves, putting together stuff that hospital staff would enjoy this time of year. Little packaged snacks, some stocking-stuffer type goodies, and gift cards for takeaway food.” He gestures to his laptop now. “I’ve emailed a few super-secret sources to figure out which departments within the hospitals would most appreciate gifts, and what the folks there might like.”

Dan rests his chin on Kyle’s shoulder to peek at the email thread on the screen, his heart warming at the realization that Kyle got up early on a Saturday to reach out to their doctor friends and organize the project. “This is really a great idea,” he mumbles quietly. 

“Your idea, really.” Kyle places a soft kiss on the side of Dan’s head. 

The sweet gesture notwithstanding, Dan snickers. “All I did was mope about wanting to help doctors. You’ve quite swiftly turned that into concrete action.”

“Details, babes,” Kyle drawls dismissively, then offers a spontaneous epiphany-laden snap of his ring-clad fingers. “We’re probably getting those Christmas baskets at the studio already, right? Maybe we can pass some of that stuff along, and reuse the baskets?”

Kyle goes on, each tiny aspect of the plan easily pouring out of him. 

Dan simply smiles and nods, grateful for this time and place and perfect person who can, it turns out, literally read his mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed that headcanon of Kyle helping Dan sort his bleeding-heart generosity into action. I've never written Dyle before it was fun imagining how their domestic life in these times might look.


End file.
